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Gothic Halloween Scare

An unkempt man approached me one dark evening'In pursuit', he said, 'of a favour''A drink' he explained, but I was unsure of his meaningWhen he specified it should be of a refined yet peculiar flavourThen as he percieved I was not repelled, he moved nearer to enhance his rapportUntil in the light of a streetlamp I could see the bottle he heldAnd I wondered what fate had in store

It was clear now he was dressed in strange clothingOf a style that one rarely meetsExcept for perhaps if roving, in a town of Dickensian streetsI failed not to judge as I leaned closer to hear just what he might suggestI thought 'how gracious of me to humour this poseur In his pale make-up, black bowler and velvet overvest'

On the bottle he held his black fingernails drummed They were varnished as per his morbid fashionAnd in his throat the tune he hummedSpoke of past revels and passionUntil at last had mustered his confidence and a pleasing toneIn which he proceeded to intimate his desireThat alas, he possessed no blood he could call his own, so therefore he was forced to enquireAs to the possibility of a small donation, it would not take much time just a tickThe procedure requiring just two things worthy of mentionThose being a vein and a slit

Of course I recoiled aghast, and vainly attempted to callAs I found I could not make a soundThen it was only when my head lolled down that I sawHis feet hovering an inch from the groundI was unable to engage any muscles as a fingernail pierced my left wristOr when he filled his bottle with a pint of my best red corpusclesThen pocketed it with a hiss

He said he could see why he might be reviledFor the comtempt he had treated me withThen he parted his lips and smiledTo allude to the fiendish alternativeIt was a smile of rapacious appearance, that made my heart shiver and shudderFor as anyone could tell from even that quick glanceHis smile was a smile like no other

Then with a doff a wink and a smirkHe smoothly departed our puddle of lightAnd melting into the inky black murkHe receded into the nightNow whenever I am about after darkI determine to not be so too lateAnd ever since that experience left it's cruel markI portage garlic cloves, holy water and a stake